


If I Lose Myself

by anomeganeyatsu



Series: For our Favorite Mullet-head: Keith Week 2016 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied Relationships, Keith Week 2016, Keith Week 2016: Anger, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, better late than never, slight blood/violence, they're there but just in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:36:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomeganeyatsu/pseuds/anomeganeyatsu
Summary: For Keith Week hosted by keith-week.tumblr.com.Day 1: Anger"Anger was a constant feeling he had. Something he had known for such a long time."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Still new to the fandom so I learned late about Keith Week. But I'd still like to contribute to the event. They did say it was better late than never. hehe
> 
> This work is unbeta'd so, I apologize for any mistake.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

He feels it burning in his heart. Fueling his blood. Painting his vision red and muting his surroundings. To the point that there was nothing left inside of him other than that.

Anger. Hot. Red. All consuming anger.

He would have been shocked at the intense emotion swirling inside of him. Fascinated that he could actually feel something this strong. Anger was a constant feeling he had. Something he had known for such a long time. Keith never thought he could feel Anger in these amounts.

 _Blinded by anger_ was a phrase he never understood, but later when his clawed hands had ripped through the Galran’s guts and he’s covered with blood and splattered with bits of the alien’s innards. When the beat of his heart was no longer deafening. When his harsh breathing was the only sound piercing the sudden quiet air. When he feels eyes boring into him. When he turns and sees his teammates looking at him with wide horrified eyes. When Keith realizes what he’s done.

 _Blinded by anger_ rang in his mind and finally, finally he understood what it meant. What it was like.

What it feels like to lose yourself.

And Keith feels sick, seeing what he’s done. What _he_ could possibly do. He pulls his hands away from being buried deep in the Druid’s chest, and there’s a wet squelching sound when more Galran blood spills on the floor and the body falls limp, hitting to the ground with a hard dead thud.

He looks at his hands. Blunt nails morphed into razor sharp claws, skin no longer the light sun-kissed tone but a pale violet hue — _heather,_ his mind whispered — almost… _almost like Zarkon’s._

Keith’s stunned, terrified thoughts were interrupted when a mad gleeful cackling pierces the air. They all look up to see the Witch, Haggar, standing atop one of the protruding walls.

“It seems there isn’t only one monster among the Paladins,” she says lips stretched into a sharp pleased grin. “Who would have known a Galran mutt would be hiding among you!”

“SHUT UP! I’m not one of you!” Keith roars.

“The Emperor’s been searching for you, _whelp_.” Haggar’s golden eyes narrow into slits as they look at Keith.

Confusion stirs among them at the declaration, none of them understanding why such a thing would happen. It would have made sense if Zarkon was searching for them, hunting them down to be more specific. But none of them understood why he would be specifically searching for Keith, especially Keith himself.

If Keith is— if he is… _what_ he is. (He refuses to say the word. Refuses to even think that he could be possibly one of those monsters. Not one of those creatures that had hurt and were continuously hurting Shiro.) He isn’t _that._ If he is an alien or half another alien species, he couldn’t be _that._

He could feel something wrapping around his leg and something close pressing onto his head. But _no_ , they weren’t that kind of appendages.

“The vile bitch hid you well. I would have imagined you to have reached maturity and gained your other blood’s inheritance. But you’re still a whelp. Ignorant. Impulsive. _Unstable._ ” Haggar smirks as she looks at the bloody mess a few steps from Keith’s feet. It didn’t’ even seem to bother her that it was one of her druids. “My, look at what you’ve done. Any Galran would have managed to be able to control their baser instincts to kill and maim. But what would one expect from a mere mutt? That pathetic Altean bitch wouldn’t even know how to raise a whelp properly.”

“I SAID _SHUT_ UP!” Keith all but growls and propels himself into the air with his jetpack to Haggar. He doesn’t know what the damned witch was talking about. He doesn’t know who she was talking about. But it grated on Keith’s nerves, on his very being, hearing the smug Galran hag insult and slander the woman who could possibly be his mother that Keith seems to have failed to remember. He couldn’t simply stand-by.

He heard the others shout for him, but Keith ignored them. He was going to rip this witch’s tongue off. He was going to slit her throat and gut her. Anger and hatred burned like hellfire inside of him and there was nothing but the desire to kill this ugly bitch streaming in his veins. There was a certain smell to her, Keith couldn’t point out what it was. But it was rotten and dark and he knew Haggar was tainted with impure magic for sure.

He would be doing the universe a service for ridding it of filth like Haggar.

But when his clawed hands reach out to tighten around Haggar’s throat. The witch disappears and reappears behind him. Keith twists at the right second to avoid being hit with a bolt of darkness that shot out from Haggar’s hand.

“You’re weak.” Haggar produces multiple copies of herself surrounding the Red Paladin. But the raven had caught Haggar’s scent and no matter how many shadows she hid behind, Keith would know which one was the real her. “You couldn’t even protect _your beloved_ Black Paladin,” she spat disgust vividly coloring her voice.

“But he’s weak too.” Haggar continues as Keith dodges the lighting she was firing at him. “He could have been my greatest creation but it seems I was wrong. One druid and he’s reduced to a pathetic mess.”

Remembering Shiro’s slumped form, the fear, the panic slipping through his scent and coating him in large amounts. The black lightning shooting out of the masked Druid’s hand. His failure to react to save Shiro, becoming just a spectator as he watches him be hit and crumple to the ground.  The self-hatred washing over him for failing the promise he made to himself to protect Shiro. His eyes catching sight of the druid and the desire to rip into indiscernible pieces the thing that had hurt Shiro.

Keith let his anger fully consume him.

He would gladly lose himself for Shiro.


End file.
